HEATHENS - Harry Potter ✔

CHAPTER ONE

The clouds loomed high above the rooftops of London, the sun nowhere to be seen. Uncharacteristic to their tidiness, the gardens of houses looked abandoned; weeds infested the flower beds and sprouted between tiles, yellow patches of dead grass where no one had watered it existed on every yard, and all the items that littered porches were covered in dust. Nearly nobody was outside.

The country was in chaos. Both the Wizarding and the Muggle worlds were suffering from the war, though at least the magical population knew what was going on whilst Muggles were left scraps of news about natural disasters and unexplainable chaos. Lord Voldemort was wreaking havoc; Dementors overran the streets, the the Brockdale Bridge had collapsed, and Death Eaters were attacking Muggles and Wizards alike.

Three people, however, seemed to venture to walk the street outside of the easily-mistaken-to-be-post-apocalyptic town. They turned into the drive of number Nine, Hartley Road and approached the front door. Loud noises from the inside reached their ears before they even reached to porch and they exchanged uncertain looks one last time before the boy in the middle raised his fist and knocked four times.

"Someone get the bloody door!"

"Selina!"

"You do it, areshole!"

The sound of multiple feet running.

"Oh, for Christ's sake!"

The door opened to reveal a middle-aged, rather mean looking woman, wearing an apron. Her hair was blonde though there was a significant amount of greys in the mix, and her small eyes narrowed to become even smaller. "Who are you?" she demanded.

"Erm – I'm Harry Potter," said the boy who had knocked. He had black hair that grew messily on his head and vibrant green eyes, and he looked as though he had been stretched, evidently, having grown multiple inches during the summer.

"This is Ron Weasley," he continued, gesturing to the even taller boy to his left, whose hair was fiery orange, freckles littering his face. "And that's Hermione Granger," he gestured towards the girl on his right with mocha brown eyes and very bushy brown hair.

"What do you want?" the woman snapped irritably. "Mind you, if you're selling something, we don't want it, so you might as well get off my porch –"

"We're not!" said Harry Potter quickly. "We're friends of Kiera's. We wondered if we might see her?"

Her eyes widened, and even so, they remained too small for her face. Looking over the trio more attentively, her face took an expression of disgust. "Since when did that freak have any friends? Trust me, you're better out of it." When none of them replied, she continued, "Fine, get in."

She opened the door just enough for them to fight through and slammed it shut behind them again. She let them into the small house and closed the door behind them. The noises had died somewhat, though it was still exceptionally loud because two voices were arguing loudly in a room to the left of the narrow staircase.

"Kiera!" the woman yelled up the stairs. "KIERA! Get down here!"

There was a loud crash from somewhere, presumably the kitchen, and the woman groaned in annoyance.

"Go find her yourselves, I haven't got time for this," she grumbled and disappeared toward the ruckus.

"Charming," said Ron, his eyebrows raised. He scanned the entrance hall, the shoes that had been left everywhere but their designated rack, wall cross that hung slightly crooked, and deep scratches on the laminate staircase.

"Yeah, very," Harry said, looking in the direction that the woman had disappeared into with a slightly distasteful look. "Makes the Dursleys' look nice ... At least it's quiet there with Dudley always outside."